She is near death, but her effort to wrench a last drop of beauty from life moved me deeply. I am grateful to Lulu for sharing it with me and I have permission to share it with you.
Here is a poem written in collaboration with my dear friend, Eileen Hunter, as I navigate this confusing time. It was originally titled “Small Blue Trucks.”
“Death Road”
Emily Meier
Smoke swirls across the wall,
One vase of roses becomes six
Bronze globes gild the dining room
The walls are pinball machines.
In the dining room, the kitchen, and a wall of the bedroom,
a pattern of blue and red.
In the living room they are a beauty
of blue and red circle balls.
On the living room walls they are a pattern
of New York News
travelling in black and white,
telling the city’s story.
Small blue trucks with white lights
merge into the scene, quiet and pale.
A mystery. I touch them.
I like the kittens. Eileen does too.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: Mortality |
I posted the Bertrand Russell quotation, too.
When I was about ten, a boy on the farm, Russell wrote an article in “Look” or “Colliers” explaining that he was an atheist and shredding belief and believers.
I wrote him a letter in which I told him I believed in God but that I was uncertain about my belief because I often had many of the thoughts he expressed. Then I asked how he could be so certain.
He never deigned to answer. Mine was probably among the thousands of letters he received.
When I found the quotation, quite by accident, I thought “you freaking bastard, I changed your mind, didn’t I?”
Then I decided he was just inconsistent.
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The idea behind Russell’s quotation is one reason why I maintain the posture I do towards government. Rarely am I so cocksure about something that I am willing to use the coercive power of government to impose it on everyone else. If others want to do something that I think is stupid they should be allowed to do so. I might be wrong.
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